


Sign

by ungoodpirate



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Meeting, Deaf Character, Deaf!Blaine, Fluffy, Hairography, Haverbrook!Blaine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungoodpirate/pseuds/ungoodpirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically an AU in which Blaine is a Haverbrook student, Kurt and Blaine meet earlier (in season 1), and despite communication barriers, flirting takes place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The boy makes a series of unknowable gestures at him. Kurt knows they’re for him, because the boy is standing just a few feet back and looking at him with bright, excited eyes. Just because Kurt had joined the Haverbrook’s performance of Imagine at Mercedes’s lead and Kurt managed to repeat the sign language, didn’t mean he could understand a single ‘word’ of it. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t…,” Kurt stutters out. He’s not sure what to say, what to do, when they person he’s speaking with is deaf. 

Around him in the room, there were small huddles of Haverbrook and New Directions students conversing with each other. Like the lead Haverbrook performer, some of the deaf students spoke in stilted sentences as they signed. Most of the Haverbrook student that weren’t speaking, for whatever reason, were hangers-on to their classmates who could converse with any one in New Directions. Kurt’s fairly sure now of them had a working knowledge of American Sign Language. 

The boy must have either been able to read lips or otherwise read Kurt’s confused expression well enough. He raises a single finger in the air. Kurt’s not sure if that an official sign, but he knows it means wait. 

The boy takes a few steps back, taps a girl classmate on the shoulder to gain her attention. He signs something to her, hands moving rapidly, an almost embarrassed smile on his face. The girl glances Kurt’s way, then looks back to the boy. She signs something back. If Kurt’s seeing right, the boy blushes. He places a hand on his chest and rubs it in a circle. 

The girl digs through her purse, and hands over a pen and a small, date book-sized notebook. The boy uncaps the pen and begins scribbling something on the page. It makes sense to Kurt, his actions, though Kurt’s not sure what the boy would go to so much effort to tell him. 

The Haverbook glee coach begins to collect his students to leave. Because he can’t yell at them to haul ass like a McKinley teacher would, he has to go about the room, collecting their attentions and communicating with them one-on-small group. 

The boy rips the page out of the notebook, and returns it and the pen to his classmate. The coach reaches the boy and his classmate, telling them it’s time to go. The boy nods his consent, but as soon as the couch moves on to his next group of students, the boy trots back over to Kurt and presses the piece of paper into his hand. He’s then thusly tugged away by his classmate by his blazer sleeve. 

In his own daze over the whole interaction, Kurt had crumpled the paper in his fist. He opens it to reveal the pen-stroked note. 

You’re cute!, read the first line, followed by a sideways winky-face as if it were an emoticon. Text me sometime, read the second line. The third was a series of digits. It took Kurt’s head a second to compute that it was a phone number. It was signed, simply with a dash and Blaine.

“Whatcha got there, Kurt?” Mercedes asks, sidling up next to him and looping an arm through one of his. The New Directions are filtering out of the choice room. Glee hour must be over. 

“Um…” is all he says because he’s not exactly sure what he’s got there. 

“Damn, is that a phone number?” Mercedes says in a whispered, more conspiratorial tone. “Which one’s Blaine?”

“The one with the eyebrows,” Kurt says. Mercedes leads him out into the hallway, and he’s too numb with surprise to feel his own feet move. 

Mercedes contemplates this for a moment. “From the front row? On the left?”

“Yeah, I think so.” The boy had been one of the people Kurt had been singing – well, signing – next to now that he considered it. 

“You gonna text him? He was a pretty cute himself.” 

They stop by their lockers. “What if it’s… what if it’s a joke?” Kurt asks, admitting his deepest fear. 

“Boy, if it’s a joke, I will hunt him down at Haverbrook and kick his ass. He won’t even hear me coming.”

“Mercedes!” Kurt caws, slightly scandalized. At least he’s feeling more potential now. He considers the note: the messy, looping writing; the perk of the exclamation point at Kurt now sees was draw over thrice, the name itself. Blaine.

“I’ll think about it,” Kurt says. He doesn’t know anything about this Blaine. As much as he daydreams about boys, the reality of one is much scarier. Plus, Kurt’s heart still pangs for Finn.

Mercedes squeezes his arm affectionately. “Well, let me know what happens. At least one of us deserves to get some action this year.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Kurt arrives home, he sets the note carefully under his Tiffany paperweight on his desk. He went through the motions of homework and dinner with his dad, all the while with the note and its message looming in his bedroom and in his mind.

Kurt thumbs over the screen of his phone, making it light up. He’d rather know. He’d rather know if this is genuine sentiment or a joke. He’s steeled himself all evening for the latter and suppressed hope for the former.

He types out a quick message:  _Is this for real?_

Kurt waits, not knowing if this number is Blaine’s real one (or if Blaine’s his real name, at that matter). Or is Blaine is a person with a constant attachment to their cell phone, or one of those who only checks it occasionally.

Three minutes pass, then comes a response.  _Is this the boy from new directions?_

Kurt wants to wince when he looks back at his first message. So consumed by his own insecurities he had failed to identify himself when clearly this Blaine wouldn’t have Kurt’s number to know him by.

_Yes_ , Kurt types back.

_It’s for real. Though I’m not sure what that means. :o_

Kurt can’t help but chuckle at Blaine’s emoticon use. He’s hit with something else. Oh. It’s for real.

But why?

One of the blessings of text messaging is the extra time and distance to consider your message before putting it out there in the world. With speaking, it was so easy to let things slip. Like a pathetically stunned“Oh” or more pathetically asked “why?”

Before Kurt can type out his response, his phone dings with a new message.  _What’s your name?_

Thank god for easy questions with easy answers.  _Kurt_

_Hello Kurt! :)_

  _Hi, Blaine_

He could almost imagine it, the two of them having this conversation face-to-face, in spoken word. This would be the point where both turned bashful, glancing down at the table and up to meet each other’s eyes. They’d share blushes and uneasy but pleased grins.

_I liked your performance today,_ Kurt writes and sends.

_Thanks, I liked yours too,_ comes the immediate response.

_Don’t lie, that performance was a hot mess of crazy._  He bits his lip to bite back his grin. He might have to steal that wig at some point, but that’s a detail he’ll keep to himself for now.

  _I liked watching you dance ;)_

That's flirting, definitely flirting. No reading symbols wrong there. Blaine had even added a winky-face. Again, they face a lull, a sputtering of blushes and words where no one types.

_Was that too far?_ reads Blaine's follow up text.

_No, I just --_ those words linger on Kurt's screen, unsent. He backspaced then rewrote,  _No, I'm just not used to it._

_Flirting?_

_Yes._

_It's okay. I'm not that practiced either._

_It doesn't show._

_Is that an insult or a compliment?_

Kurt's thumb hovers over the screen, contemplating the possible answers. His original statement had been more of an observation without any connotation. But Kurt definitely admired this Blaine's easy confidence and charm.

_Definitely a compliment_  Kurt texts back. He wonders if Blaine is sitting so constantly and undeterred with his phone as Kurt. He must be, to give such fast replies. Someone, wanting to hear from Kurt...

_Look who's flirting now!_ reads Blaine's next text.

A few more bantered texts get exchanged between them, and Kurt ends up with a request to meet Blaine this weekend at a coffee house called the Lima Bean. Being asked out for coffee, that’s a date, right?

…

Between that first texting conversation and the _date_ , Kurt had a few more prolonged text exchanges with Blaine, extending tidbits of information about themselves – including his coffee orders, apparently. He hadn’t really thought of that until he tentatively pushed through the door of the Lima Bean and spotted the boy with two coffee cups already before him on the table.

Blaine sees him instantly – raises his hands in greeting – having chosen a chair that faced the door. Blaine busies himself with his cell as Kurt approaches. Kurt’s phone chimes with a text as he sits down. He checks it; It’s from Blaine.

_I got here early, so I bought our drinks. Hope that’s okay._

Kurt texts back, thankful that he gets an excuse to keep his eyes down for a moment to center himself. _It’s okay._

He glances up carefully. Blaine’s working on his phone. Kurt gets a new text a few second later.

_I can read lips pretty well, as long as you look at me when you talk. If I need clarification I can ask in a text._

Blaine’s peering at him with an intense concentration. Kurt gulps, unfamiliar with such unadulterated attention given to him. It’s not unwanted, though.

“Okay,” Kurt says, unsure of what to say now that he is face-to-face with this boy he had been flirting and conversing in text all week. “We can do that.”

Blaine grins – Kurt’s heart stutters in reaction – and nods. He makes a presenting gesture with his hand towards Kurt’s coffee. Kurt takes it and sips. It’s something to do.

Kurt sets his cup down deliberately, a question that been itching at his consciousness. “Can I ask you something?”

Blaine nods.

Kurt lowers his voice, not for Blaine, but for the surrounding audience of the coffee house. “How did you know?”

Blaine tilts his head, confusion reading across his expression. He works at his phone. _I know what you’re saying, but I don’t know what you mean._

He turns to his phone, preferring to text it than say it in the crowd. (Yes, he’s out now, officially to his dad and Mercedes and most people just assume anyway, but most times this doesn’t win him any favors.)

_That I was gay?_

Kurt watches Blaine’s face as the boy forms his response. It’s pensive, mostly, none of that exuberant grin, his forehead a little wrinkled. Regardless, he still is very handsome-looking.

_While I wish I could say that being deaf has resulted in having some sort of super-senses, I thought I’d take a chance. If you didn’t text me back after I gave you my number, you weren’t interested, one way or the other._

Blaine quirks an eyebrow up when Kurt looks up from reading his phone.

“That’s bold,” Kurt says, a smirking starting to play on his face.

Blaine types out something swiftly. _No risk no reward._

Kurt scoff-laughs, not unpleased.

That evening, Kurt goes home and sets about using the internet to teach himself the American Sign Language Alphabet, with the promise of _tomorrow_ lingering in the back of his head.

…

“I want to show you something,” Kurt tells Blaine, instantly.

Blaine nods a ‘go head.’

Kurt bits him lip with concentration, keeping a careful eye on his own hand as he fumbles through forming out the gestures. He’s spelling out ‘Blaine.’

Blaine beams more than Kurt has ever seen him. The boy smiles a lot and easily – not like Kurt at all, who likes the façade of superiority – but Kurt hadn’t seen his smile with such all consuming glee.

_You learned for me._

“Well,” Kurt says, lowering his arm. “Just the alphabet so far. But now I can sign your name.”

_Well, that’s how you spell my name, but that’s not my *name*_

“What do you mean?”

_Don’t get me wrong, you’ve done admirably. But in the deaf community, we tend to use these name signs that make a name specific to a person. One way is to combine the symbol of the first letter of our names with another sign._

“Then what’s yours?”

Blaine makes the hand shape Kurt recognizes as ‘b’ then starts them at the center of his mouth and draws them up in a curve on either side. Kurt repeats the gesture.

_Very good,_ reads Blaine’s text.

“What’s it mean?” Kurt asks.

Blaine makes a similar gesture, though this time just with the point of his index fingers. He then texts: _Smile. My mom picked it. Apparently I was a very happy baby._

“I like it. It’s definitely appropriate.”

Kurt learns more about name signs that coffee trip. About their intense meaning in the Deaf community and how they its consider highly offensive for hearing people to give themselves their own sign names. Not that a hearing person can’t have one, but that is for someone involved in the deaf community, and given out by a deaf person.

Kurt also learns that, unlike with speaking, sign names are used when talking directly to someone, but rather about them. There’s a own sign for getting attention (dropping a hand vertically, palm down). Once we are already signing with someone, that amount of attention doesn’t need the reemphasis of a name within it.

He’s buzzing with knowledge and wonder at the end of it. There’s a whole language and culture to a community of people he’s never had a chance to interact with before. They are more than some life lesson that so many TV show specials turned them into.

Blaine is more. That’s something that both excites and scares Kurt, a feeling more visceral in his every breath and thought and pound of heart than any infatuation he ever had for Finn Hudson. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you're getting your continuation, because I am a sucker for attention, lol. Also, from here on out in this story, italics shall indicate texting, maybe other writing. If you want more info on name signs... just google it? That's what I did.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt hooks his arm through Mercedes’ on a Monday morning trek down the halls. When they reach a clear patch where no one is near to overhear, he whispers to her: “So, I saw that Blaine guy this weekend. Twice.”

She gives him a sharp-eyed look. “Boy, why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m saying something now!”

She hmms, then says, “I take it he’s for real, then.”

“He’s totally for real,” Kurt confirms.

They take a turn into homeroom, settling into their seat – Mercedes the desk behind Kurt. She leans up from her seat. “Are you dating now?”

Kurt goes pink, twists in his seat, and says, “No. I mean, I don’t think so. We just had coffee and talked.”

“Coffee? Did you each buy your own?”

“The first time he bought mine. Second time, I bought his.”

Mercedes is quiet for a moment as the teacher pathetically tries to command attention at the front of the classroom.

“Kurt,” she says to him. “Those were dates.”

...

It both confuses and fills Kurt with a sense of wonder at the possibility. Was he dating Blaine? Had he gone on his first date and not even realized it? If he had known, he would have dressed better.

He gets out of school and glee and there is a message waiting for him.

_Do you have time to text later?_

Kurt bits his lip. He feels fuzzy-warm all over. He shoots a quick text back: _Driving home now. Text you in fifteen._

Before he makes it out to the parking lot, he receives a _:)_ in reply.

When he gets home, Kurt settles up against the pillows in his bed, a bold resolve in him. Texting Blaine when first got the number had been a rewarded risk. He could risk again.

_Can I ask you something?_

_Sure. Anything._

Kurt stresses over the exact wording, then finally types, _When he had coffee this past weekend… were those dates?_

There’s no immediate response, and with Blaine having responded immediately just moments ago, it’s worrisome. Kurt sits straighter up in tension as he waits.

Finally, five minutes later, his phone dings.

_You know, there’s a real disadvantage of not being able to see your face when you asked that._ Ding. _It’s true we never defined what we were doing._

Kurt types back: _If it helps, my face is probably just as worried as yours._

Blaine’s text comes barely a second after Kurt hit send on his. Blaine had probably written it before he received Kurt’s reassurance. It makes Kurt heart skip double because of it.

_I like you._ It reads. _I thought that was obvious._

Kurt lets out a breath, but he doesn’t have to think. _I like you too._

_!!!!_ is Blaine’s response, and Kurt can’t help the embarrassingly giddy laugh that escape him. Blaine’s following text reads: _Can we go out an official date?_

_I would very much like that,_ Kurt responds.

_:) Okay, start thinking of when you’re free and where you might want to go. My mom is summoning me now, but hopefully I’ll be seeing you soon._

Kurt has to wonder when his life became this.

…

“Mercedes, I’m informing you both first and exclusively that Blaine and I discussed it… and, while our coffee meetings were undefined, we’re going on an actual date later this week.”

Mercedes smiles winningly, excited for him, then perks an eyebrow. “You’re gonna give me a play-by-play as soon as it’s over, right? Also, when am I going to meet him? “

“We still haven’t gone on our first date yet!” Kurt scolds, but he’s no way put off by her. Her taking joy in his joy only adds fuel to his flame. “But I want to talk to you about something. Can we keep this between us? My actually burgeoning love life.”

Mercedes grimaces.

“What?”

“I may’ve already talked to Tina about it.”

“Why would you have talked to Tina about it?” Kurt demands – squeaks, if he’s being honest. Because if Tina knows, then, by now, who else _didn’t_ know? Not saying that Tina was a gossip, but both Mercedes and Tina are giant gossips.

“Well, she sort of had a thing with Artie, and so she’s had more experience than either of us, and I wanted her opinion of if your dates were dates.” She scrutinizes Kurt for his reaction.

“And?” Kurt asks.

“She thinks they are decidedly date-like.”

He sighs and sags. “It’s not your fault. I should have remembered there are no secrets in glee club.” Except pregnancies, apparently, but that could still yet go to hell.

“I didn’t know you didn’t want anyone to know. If I was dating some cute boy, I would shout it from the rooftops. But it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? I mean, who in this school cares who you and I are dating?”

Mercedes goes off to her locker and Kurt is left in nervousness. If Mercedes had a cute guy she was dating, sure she could scream/sing/shout about it with little, if any, ramifications. Mercedes, bless her, might be able to accept him easily, but others in the school – in the glee club even – weren’t so open-minded. He didn’t need the homophobic jokes and comments on this good turn in his life.

He makes it through the first few classes without a peep of acknowledgement about Blaine. Mercedes was right when she said no one cared about them. It’s only a temporary reprieve.

None other than Rachel Berry accosts him by his locker before lunch period.

“Kurt, we need to have a date-vention. That’s a _dating intervention._ ”

Kurt just stares at her blandly.

“Your boyfriend –” she clarifies eyes creepily big.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kurt corrects quickly. Flirting and agreeing to go on a date did not equal boyfriend. Kurt knows that much.

“You’re going to have to dump him,” Rachel says too earnest and matter-of-fact.

He feels his eyebrows shoot up. He hopes the look comes across as condescending.

“What? No,” he snaps. He makes to step away from her and down the hall.

Rachel takes a step to match him, blocking him unless he wanted to barrel through her. “He’s in a rival show choir. He’s clearly using you in a plot to win sectionals for Haverbrook.”

“Oh my god.” Kurt’s restraint of barreling through Rachel wanes. “Really, how is he _clearly_ using me?”

Rachel raises a tentative hand in the air. “The details are still fuzzy, but he’s obviously still in the building trust foundation phase –”  

“Are we even going to consider the possibility that he likes me for _me_?” Kurt comments, but Rachel pays this no attention, continuing on with her rant.

“— which is why we must nip it in the bud now! So tell me, what have you told him about glee club so far?”

Kurt releases a careful breath he uses for dealing with the variations of McKinley high annoyances. “Nothing,” he says.

“Nothing?” Rachel squawks.

“Other than complimenting each other on the performances our clubs did for each other, not a mention.”

“Then what do you talk about?” Rachel asks as though genuinely shocked.

Kurt brushes up his bangs, ready to lay out a smack down. “None of your business. What I talk about on my dates is none of your business. Just like who I date is none of your business, and everything to do with my life is _none of your business_. Now get out of my way, it’s time for lunch.”

Shocked – perhaps still from how glee club was not the center of everyone’s life or from his verboseness (he usually spoke in glares down his nose and sarcastic asides) – Rachel fails to stop him as he saunters off. No one was going to turn Blaine into a bad thing because of their delusions, not on Kurt Hummel’s watch.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> date night

Kurt spent hours watching instructional videos and practicing ASL hand movements. He was a decent French student, and this should be just like picking up any other foreign language. He was never so self-taught before. There’s no way he could reach conversational-level ASL by his date night, but perhaps Kurt could pick up a few things to impress Blaine before then. That smile when Kurt spelled out Blaine’s name is still burned on the back of Kurt’s corneas.

And while Kurt aims to look fashionable and fantastic every day, the pressure and uniqueness of a first date _ever_ has him going through his wardrobe days in advance, laying out potential combinations across every available surface of his bedroom.

When Friday night came, though, Kurt had to settle for the best available option, not the perfect option. (A perfect option he was sure he would only find via a designer shopping trip.) Plus, there really wasn’t anything he could do for his lack of height or his baby-fat. At least he had good hair, and nightly skin care routines fought off the worse of adolescent acme.

Kurt’s hand is on the doorknob of the front door when his dad interrupts from his nightly watching of _Deadliest Catch_ , “Where you going?”

“Out to dinner, Breadstix,” Kurt says, not turning around.

“Like, with some of those glee club girls?” his dad asks. There’s nothing accusatory or even prying in Burt’s voice.  Just natural curiosity and moderately concerned parent questioning. It would be so easy for Kurt to say ‘yes’ to his dad’s already provided alibi.

But he doesn’t want to lie. What’s to gain from it? Kurt’s wasted so many years lying to his father and to himself.

“Actually,” Kurt says, turning to put the door to his back, his father sitting across the room in his armchair, only half-paying attention to Kurt as a row of commercials begin playing on the TV screen. “It’s with a boy. It’s sort of a date.”

That gets his dad’s attention – from his peering gaze to the line between his eyebrows to his peaked tone.        

“A date?”

Kurt bits his lower lip and nods. His dad isn’t angry, but Kurt can’t help his own nerves. Was this too far, too much, too soon for his father still adjusting to a gay son?

Burt clears his throat. “With who?” he asks. He hasn’t stood from his armchair but he has certainly stopped leaning so casually and relaxed back in it. The TV might as well be a nonexistent soundtrack.

“His name is Blaine. He goes to Haverbrook.”

“Haverbrook?” Burt says, just enough questioning mixed into familiarity of the name.

“The deaf school,” Kurt clarifies.

“So, he’s deaf?”

“…Yes.”

There’s an awkward pause. Kurt shifts weight between his feet.

Burt clears his throat again. “Well, remember curfew. And text me when you get to there and when you’re leaving.”

“You don’t know how to text,” Kurt points out in a dry tone.

“But I know how to read them now,” Burt corrects. He’s sitting stiffly at the edge his chair, maybe wanting to stand or wanting to do something more, something physical at this tense moment. He fumbles around with his next words. “If you need me for anything, or… I guess I mean… be safe.” Kurt makes a face and Burt swiftly corrects, “But not like _that._ You’re much too young for…”

“That,” Kurt provides, feeling a bit blushy.

“That. Correct. Much too young. What I mean is… be safe because, I get those phone calls sometimes and I know there a lot of intolerant people in this town…”

Of all his dating worries (being stood up, food in his teeth, wardrobe malfunction), Kurt hadn’t even thought of the risk of going out with another boy in a romantic situation. What some would say was ‘flaunting’ being gay. Blaine has been such a safe haven from the much harsher rest of the world – well, rest of Lima.

“We will,” he tells his dad. “I mean, we’re just having dinner together. It’s not like we’re going to make out in public.” He laughs awkwardly. His humor is not mutually appreciated.

“God,” Burt says, something else emotion-rough in his voice. “When did you get old enough to date?”

Kurt shrugs. “I’m trying to figure that out too.”

…

They meet just inside the restaurant doors. Blaine performs the ‘hello’ sign – it’s just a wave starting at the temple coming out and forward. Kurt returns the gesture.

“I like your outfit,” Kurt says, stepping close to gently pluck at Blaine’s bright yellow bowtie.

Daze-eyed, Blaine quickly signs something else out. Kurt looks on, confused. He knows only enough that Blaine was directly referencing Kurt. ‘You’ was a pretty easy sign to figure out.

Remembering the situation, Blaine slides his phone out of his pocket: _I like your outfit too._

Kurt signs ‘thank you’ and Blaine’s eyes crinkle pleasantly in reaction.

_Learning some new things?_

“Trying.”

Kurt gets them a table. They take some time to silently flip through their menus. When Blaine sets his menu down on the table, Kurt follows suit. He’s familiar enough with Breadstix to know what he wanted to order, but he wasn’t going to stare at Blaine in the interim.

Before they can share another exchange, the waitress interrupts them to ask them if they are ready to order. Of course, she doesn’t do look towards Blaine as she speaks.

“Ready to order?” Kurt says directly to Blaine, to clue him in on the waitress’ question. He nods discreetly to Kurt. Kurt gives his order; Blaine points to his on the menu. Thankfully, the waitress doesn’t act fazed by this.

Kurt considers, something that has gnawed at him since Rachel accosting him. She hasn’t again, but Kurt has caught her glaring at him a few times across the choir room.

“There’s something we should talk about,” Kurt says. Blaine waits, attentive, and Kurt takes this as a cue to continue. “Well, as we are future competitors in show choir, I think it is really necessary that until after sectionals are over, we don’t really talk about our respective glee clubs with each other.”

Blaine blinks. His expression reads confused. He turns to his phone, typing out a message. Kurt receives it a few moments later.

_I’m really good at reading lips, more than the average Deaf person even, but it’s not a perfect practice. Basically, I didn’t get what you were saying at all. Something about glee clubs? As it’s kind of involved, can you just type it?_

“Oh,” Kurt glances between the screen of his phone and Blaine, who himself looks uneasy. “No problem,” he tells Blaine and gets to work transcribing his message, perhaps more concisely-worded than before.

Once Blaine’s receives Kurt’s text and reads it, he appears immensely more settled.

_I agree. It prevents any accidental slips and defends from any accusations of spying… but you’d make a really endearing spy though._

Kurt giggles. “What does that even mean though?”

They spent their evening eating and having a slow conversation around the eating. Every so often, Kurt was tempted to pinch himself. Surely this was a dream. He had his crushes in the past, but the reality of a date here in Lima, with a cute boy who looked at him like he really liked what he saw, was amazing.

…

They ended the evening out in the chill of the parking lot. Neither of them quite wanted to go even though their curfews loomed. Neither knew how to end the date.  
  
Blaine breaks eye contact to type something. It’s a burden of their communication. Kurt wishes he could have more unbroken time staring into those bright hazel eyes.

_Can I give you a hug?_ reads Blaine’s text.

“Yes,” Kurt whispers, and it doesn’t matter how quiet he said it. Blaine saw.

Blaine steps forward and Kurt forgets to breathe. Next moment, he’s pressed close to a warm body, feeling the stretch of lungs and its very pulse. Blaine’s arms are snug – not tight – around him. Kurt remembers to move his arms to reciprocate.

There’s something inexplicably nice about a moment that’s all feeling, no words necessary.

…

Burt’s waiting in the living room when Kurt returns home, reading a newspaper. Kurt’s not tricked.

“I had a nice time,” Kurt says, unprompted.

Burt coughs, lowers his paper a measured amount, and says, “That’s good.”

Kurt crosses the living room toward his bedroom door. Before he can disappear down into his basement bedroom, his dad’s voice stops him.

“Kurt?”

Kurt looks back over his shoulder. “Yes, Dad?”

“You can have this guy… friend of yours over here. It might be… safer.”

Kurt takes the offer for what it is at its best, an ultimate acceptance of him as a gay kid. “Thanks, dad.”

…

In the middle of the night, still trying to fall asleep with an excitement buzz keeping his mind running in glorious circles, it comes back to him. Kurt gets out of bed and goes to his computer, where he googles around to discover the meaning of the sign Blaine had signed first thing on the date. It takes a little work, having to describe it in words, but in an online ASL dictionary, Kurt finds it. The meaning of moving a five hand in a circular motion in front of the face. Beautiful. Blaine had called him beautiful.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, I’ve been researching Deaf culture,” Kurt says.

Blaine signs out something that Kurt knows means, ‘I know.’ They have gotten to a place where Kurt recognizes several, often-used conversational signs and phrases. It always makes Blaine pleased when Kurt understood. And there’s no better way for Kurt to learn ASL than through actual practice.

“Well, I have question that I’ve wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to be stupid or offensive about it.”

Blaine still relies on texting for more involved comments. _Nothing you would ask could be stupid._

Kurt makes a face. Blaine types something more.

_People can ask stupid questions. But you care too much to ask any question that’s stupid._

Kurt shrugs to that. Blaine now makes a face at him, kind of like ‘you better believe it.’ It’s so couple-y, just communicating through facial expressions and eye contact sometimes.                

“It’s about being vocal,” Kurt says, then pauses for a moment. Something a little angry and a little uncomfortable flickers across Blaine’s features, but it’s quickly hidden away under a veneer of polite interest.

“I noticed that some of the Haverbrook students are vocal, but you aren’t. And I was just wondering…” Kurt doesn’t know how to finish his sentence. ‘Why you’re not’ would be an awfully insensitive way to phrase it.

Turns out Kurt didn’t even need to finish. He’s already typing away on his phone.

_I’m assuming if you’ve done research about the Deaf community that you know there is a bit of a divide on the importance of being vocal._

Kurt signs ‘yes’ (a fist, shook up and down like a nod). He has learned this. Some schools pressuring deaf students to favor learning to speak – be vocal –, while others favoring rejecting that and a whole bunch in between. And that’s not even calculating in the difficulty of it.

_Haverbrook has tracks for being vocal, but it doesn’t force all students._

“Okay,” Kurt says, but it just feels like there’s more to it.

Blaine’s still staring down at the screen of his phones, but not typing. Without him looking up, there is no way to communicate with Blaine. Kurt decides to wait. It’s a relatively warm day for autumn. The leaves are curling down from the trees in shades of yellow and red. It’s why they decided to bring their coffee date outside to the park.

He waits, watches leaves, trails his fingers over the grain of the wood bench they are sharing. Sometime later, his phone dings in the receiving of another text.

_I’ve been deaf since I was born. I was taught from a young age how to be vocal and it was always very important to my dad that I act and sound like I was ‘normal.’ He never learned sign language for me. My mom learned. My brother’s pretty useless at it, but at least he tries, and even then he can usually get the main idea of what I’m signing.  My Dad doesn’t like when I communicate just using sign, because I should be vocal. But at the same time, when I’m vocal he always makes this face because I don’t sound normal enough to him. Even though I know how to be vocal, I don’t like speaking._

Kurt reads the message once and then over again. He looks up, and Blaine’s eyes are little red, like he had been thinking about crying.

“Your Dad sounds like a real asshole.”

Blaine snorts. He types something else out quickly. _Just wait until you hear my coming out story._

Kurt can’t think of anything to do but to throw his arms over Blaine’s shoulders in a quick, rough hug. Blaine’s huffs, perhaps in surprise, but leans into it.

…

Later that afternoon, moving on to more pleasant and light-hearted conversation, Kurt remembers his father’s comments from several nights before.

“You should come over my house sometime. My dad said I could have you over.”

_Your dad sounds like a good guy._ They had discussed Burt before.

“He is,” Kurt says. “But yeah, next date is at my house. It’s not that far from here. We could watch a movie. Wait, do you like movies?”

_Put on the subtitles, and I’m there._

…

“Pick what you like,” Kurt says, motioning at the display of movies in his bedroom. If you didn’t think he cleaned and primped his bedroom (and hide anything embarrassing) like he did himself before this date, you would be wrong.

Kurt sat on the edge of his bed and watched Blaine browse. He wonders how Blaine liked musicals. Yes, he’s in his school’s glee club, but it wasn’t exactly traditional music.

After a minute or so, Blaine turns around and presents him with _Moulin Rouge_.

They sit and watch. As Satine starts faking orgasm noises as Christian recites poetry, Kurt feels a hand on his and instantly flinches. It’s not Blaine, but just the unexpected touch.

Blaine draws back, and lays his hand palm-up on the bedspread between them, an open invitation. It’s Kurt’s choice.

He stares at Blaine’s palm, at the curl of his fingers, while Blaine peers constant – maybe too constant – at the TV. After a moment, needing to almost force his arm to move, Kurt slides his hand into Blaine’s.

Blaine grips Kurt’s hand, the steady warmth more appealing than Kurt could’ve anticipated as they continue watching the rest of the film. Despite all pretenses, Kurt can’t help but get teary-eyed at the ending. ‘It’s better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.’ Come on, tear-jerker moment.

When the screen goes black and the credits roll, Blaine sees Kurt crying for the first time.

“I’m okay,” Kurt croaks, glad for once that Blaine can’t hear him. He wipes at his cheeks.

Blaine signs something out with no explanation. The more time they spent together, the more often it happens. It’s the familiar way Blaine speaks, so Kurt takes it as something good.

Blaine then reaches out, gently thumbing away a stray tear. His thumb lingers, sliding down to settle at the corner of Kurt’s mouth.

There should be more moments like this, Kurt decides, for everyone in the world. Moments not clogged with words. There is so much more in touch, in eye contact, in understanding the expression on a face.

Slowly, barely blinking, Blaine shifts in closer. Kurt meets him halfway.

They kiss, careful and experimenting. They are both new to this, and trying to navigate how it’s done. Blaine hands slide down to cup Kurt’s jaw, and Kurt finds himself clutching Blaine’s shoulders.

Some minutes later, they lightly pull apart, but only as far until the tips of their noses are touching. Cross-eyed at the closeness, they keep eye contact. Blaine makes a noise – a laugh hitched in his throat. Kurt twists his head and kisses Blaine again.

The front door bangs shut and heavy footsteps are heard through the floor. Kurt jolts, parting from Blaine. Blaine tilts his head and looks at Kurt in confusion.

Kurt points at his ceiling. “My dad.”

_Can I meet him?_ Blaine asks, although meeting him is inevitable at this point. Kurt leads Blaine up the stairs. His hand feels empty without Blaine’s filling it.

“Hey, Dad!” he calls as he reaches the top of the steps. Burt is already in the kitchen, and just turns around. “This is Blaine.”

Blaine signs out a greeting even though he knows it will be lost on Burt, then offer a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” Burt gruffs out, a little surprised at the sudden meeting of the new boy in his son’s life.

“We were watching _Moulin Rouge_ ,” Kurt offers, maybe to an unasked question, maybe to fill the unique weirdness of the moment.

It’s agreed that Blaine will stay for dinner. Kurt perhaps is a little surprised by how well it goes, especially as he in the middle, reading texts and translating simple signs in order to facilitate any communication between Blaine and his father.

“He seems like a good kid,” Burt tells Kurt later that night, after Blaine has left.

“He is,” Kurt says. “He really is.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sectionals

“So when are we going to meet your boy?” Mercedes asks over there lunch table. Tina nods emphatically beside her.

“Not until after Sectionals. Blaine and I decided on no crossing over of our school lives until then.”

“ _Blaine and I_ ,” Mercedes repeats. “So cute.”

Kurt doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he stabs his fork into his salad (because at least he could tell where the school cafeteria salad was made of), and suppressed too big of a grin.

“C-can you at least show us a picture?” Tina asks.

“You saw him when Haverbrook sang here,” Kurt tells her.

“I don’t know which one he was! Mercedes told me eyebrows, but I don’t know the hell what that means.”

That might have been the most Kurt had ever heard Tina say in a single swoop, and without a stutter.

“Well…,” he teases. Blaine and he had taken some selfies on their phones together a few dates ago. Oh, how great the dates had gotten now that they were accompanied with kisses and handholding. And Kurt really does want to show Blaine off.

Tina actually claps when Kurt gets out his phone and starts swiping through to get to his pictures. He presses his phone to the tabletop and pushes over to the girls to see.

Tina makes a little squeaky noise at Kurt’s favorite pic of he and Blaine, with the sides of their faces pressed gently together as to fit inside the frame.         

“So cute,” Mercedes says again.

Thankfully, Sectionals wasn’t too far off.

…

Sectionals came with a swell of excitement and anxiety. Kurt hadn’t told Blaine quite how much is riding on New Directions making it to Regionals, just as he hadn’t told Blaine, as per their agreement, much about Sectionals at all. He didn’t want to influence Blaine’s performance, after all. It was only fair.

But after Sectionals, whether victory or crushing defeat, Kurt knew he would definitely share with Blaine the zeal that is filling him now— and would definitely flow over – as they approached performing. Heck, New Directions is still lingering about the lobby and it is yet unbearably good.

His phone is on vibrate and Kurt feels it go off in his pocket. He tugs it out for maybe the last time before the competition. He won’t want any distractions later.

There’s a text from Blaine: _I see you._

Kurt glances around until he catches sight of a horde of maroon jackets – Haverbrook students in uniform. Blaine’s standing on the edge of the group, looking Kurt’s way. Kurt raises a hand; Blaine waves back. Miss Pillsbury comes back to the New Directions to tell them they’re performing last, andushers them into the auditorium to watch the other show choirs perform.

…

They’re dazed, in their green room, and Miss Pillsbury is busy recounting the events to Mr. Schue over the phone. Jane Addams Academy had just performed Mercedes’ ballad and their wheelchair number, and Haverbrook had performed _Don’t Stop Believing_ for teary-eyed audience. New Directions entire set list had been used, and they had yet to perform.  

“What the hell?” Puck announces into the group’s stunned and pained silence. It’s almost odd for someone who just this week got repeatedly punched in the face by his best friend because his best friend’s girlfriend’s unborn is actually his to be so offended by this turn of events.

Rachel is fuming, and pops up like popcorn from her seat. “I can stay quiet about this any longer.” She throws out an arm, pointing at Kurt across the room. “Kurt’s been fraternizing with the enemy. That’s where this slip of information took place.”

Half of the glee club looks confused while the other half – who knew of Blaine from Kurt or from rumors – looks contemplative at this accusation.

“That’s ridiculous,” Kurt says, because Blaine and he didn’t talk about glee club for this very reason. It wasn’t Blaine, it wasn’t, but if not Blaine, who?

Miss Pillsbury, back from her phone call, asks, “What’s going on?” because Rachel is still pointing at him, and he’s glaring at her as he fills with self-doubt, and everyone else is looking between them waiting for the violence to start.

Santana, of all people, spoke up, “Kurt leaked our set list to the competition.”

“No, I didn’t,” Kurt protested, and a rabble of mini-conversations (about him, about the set lists, about Blaine) broke out amongst the group. At least Kurt over hears Mercedes defending him.

Miss Pillsbury looks anxiously about within the groups of arguing kids, immensely overwhelmed. “Is this true, Kurt?” she asks.

“No. It’s not,” he said loudly, commanding the attention of the room. “I never told Blaine a single thing about New Directions. We agreed not to talk about our glee clubs because of exactly this.”

“Maybe that was his plan all along,” Rachel says, loudly, but she’s always loud. “I told you when you started seeing him, he was lulling you into a false sense of security so he could get the information. Just because you didn’t tell him doesn’t mean he got it from you some other way.”

“Because I keep the set list in my house? And he was in cahoots with the juvenile delinquent school?” Kurt demands, poking holes in Rachel’s theory. He’s not so sure Rachel believes it, manic eyes and all, but she needs something to blame for this misfortune. (Hell, most of New Directions have already turned on each other, bickering). Then why why _why_ did Kurt feel so doubtful about Blaine and their relationship –  even though there was no conceivable way Blaine could have learned their set list.

Before the green room can descend into complete chaos and Miss Pillsbury into a panic attack, Finn arrives, with a new song and a game plan.

…

They won. New Directions won Sectionals, leaked set list, internal drama, and all. While all of New Directions, including Rachel, is assuaged by this glorious turn of events, Kurt wasn’t. The set list was leaked somehow. Neither Kurt’s heart nor his head could come by any reason for Blaine to be the guilty culprit in it, but there was something else in his consciousness, a taint in his self-esteem that whispers cruelly, that there it is – a reason for things like dates and kisses and fate being so nice to him. That it was a trick all along.

Even when Blaine finds him in the lobby afterwards, giving Kurt a _congratulations_ text and a warm hug, very little of the doubt is eased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only excuse for the long gap between updates is that I was busy working on another Klaine fic (not yet posted), which I think is a pretty good excuse.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt goes over it, elaborately, in his mind. There is no realistic way for Blaine to have had access to New Directions’ set list. Kurt hadn’t had record of the set list in his house or person – not his phone, not his computer, not physically written somewhere. The set list, unintentionally or not, never left McKinley. If Blaine got their set list, it was from someone other than Kurt.

Then when you added into the calculation Blaine working with Jane Addams Academy to steal their set list… Well, it just seems kind of far-fetched.

And yet, their set list was leaked. And Blaine is the only immediate connection between New Directions and the other show choirs. Kurt doesn’t want to believe that Blaine betrayed him. Yet the doubt festers like an inflected wound even as he shared his couch with Blaine – their first post-Sectionals date.

There is a sizeable chunk between them on the couch as a _Project Runway_ marathon played out before them. It’s quiet between them, even for one of them not being vocal. Kurt’s going through phases of covertly glancing at Blaine – trying to read him – and resolutely not looking at Blaine to the point of ignoring.

Fingers graze Kurt’s wrist and he starts. It’s the first time Kurt’s had such a negative reaction to Blaine’s touch since that first time they held hands during _Moulin Rouge_. He receives a text a moment later.

_You okay?_

“I’m fine,” Kurt mutters, chin-to-chest.

Blaine gentle hand reaches out and touches his chin, tilting his head in Blaine’s direction. His eyebrows are raised in question.

“I’m fine,” Kurt repeats, sharply.

Blaine tilts his head to the side, a ‘are you sure?’

No, Kurt isn’t sure. For Blaine, so earnest, couldn’t be guilty, but – and here’s the rub – why would someone so endearing, so wonderful, and so handsome Blaine be here with Kurt.

Overwhelmed, Kurt hides his face in his arms and drives to hide in the arm of the couch. He groans.

A warm hand presses to his shoulder. Kurt peaks up to see a blurry-in-his –peripheral-vision Blaine, kneeling beside him and looking concerned. Blaine lets go to type out a message. Instead of sending it, he just holds up the screen for Kurt to read.

_Please don’t hide your face. It makes it practically impossible for me to talk to you._

Kurt sits up, but he feels nothing but dragged down. None of it is Blaine’s fault. (Except for all of it being Blaine’s fault for being so _Blaine._ )

_Now tell me what’s wrong?_

Kurt gulps, but he resigns himself to a time of admittance.

“Did you know that we… the New Directions, changed our songs for Sectionals _at_ Sectionals?”

_New Directions was amazing. You guys won, after all._ There’s nothing but concern and confusion in Blaine’s features. It hurts to look at.

Kurt takes to his phone to convey his next message. _Our original set list was_ I Am Telling You _,_ Rolling Down the River _complete with wheelchair choreography, and_ Don’t Stop Believin’.

Blaine reads this text message for a long time, looks up to check Kurt’s face as if for seriousness, then finally responds. _I don’t understand._

_Someone stole our set list._

Blaine’s stare hardened as he read this text. Although Kurt explicitly said nothing about Blaine in the mixture of this scandal, the implications were there.

_You think it was me?_

“No,” Kurt says. He can see Blaine’s hurt, and grabs his arm to grab his attention. “No. I don’t. It couldn’t have been you.”

Blaine signs something out, gestures sharp and agitated, then, with a sigh, turns to his cell phone. Really, Kurt thinks, the slowness of their communication might an advantage. There was more time to think things out, not say things you don’t mean. This is evidenced as Kurt watches Blaine backspace several times on his phone.

The message Kurt ends up with: _But you’re acting strange, like I’m guilty._

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, then types. _It happened, okay? I thought it might be you. And I didn’t think about you at all until this crazy girl in my glee club blamed you for it. She thought you were using me all along… and can you really blame for maybe thinking it was true. Not because you’re a bad person. Maybe I’ve been waiting for the catch, for why someone amazing as you is interested in me._

Blaine bites his lip as he reads.

  _Don’t you think I feel the same way? Don’t you think I think you’re amazing, and that I’m worried that one day you’ll get tired of all the accommodations you make for me?_

“I would never get tired of you,” Kurt says.         

_And there’s no catch with me_.

Kurt grabs Blaine’s face and presses his mouth against Blaine’s, desperate, eyes feeling wet. Blaine’s lips move to accommodate Kurt’s, and suddenly this is more than it’s ever been before. There’s heavy breathe and the slide of tongue. Blaine’s arms cinch across Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him closer, than pulling him down as Blaine lies back against the sofa.

Then continue to kiss, Kurt laying half on top of his boyfriend, sparks flowing through his blood stream in the most pleasant way. Blaine’s hands had moved down to Kurt’s waist, gripping tight. Kurt forgot what it was to breathe.

This was so close, so intimate, bodies meshed together, sharing body heat and feeling heartbeats and shift of lungs, and not knowing which was yours and which was theirs. Kurt had never felt so connected with a single other person before.   

In a trance, he doesn’t know how much time passes with him and Blaine properly and enthusiastically making out. He doesn’t hear the front door open either, but he does hear his father’s voice calling, “Kurt, you home?”

First Kurt tries to sit up then he realizes it would probably be better to hide, and in that moment of indecision, he ends up rolling off Blaine, off the couch, and onto the floor with a thump. Confused, Blaine sits up.

“Oh…,” is all Burt manages to mutter, knowing quite well what he had walked in on. All three turn red and embarrassed.

Burt retreats to the kitchen to get a beer, allowing the boys a few moments to right themselves. As Kurt gets up from the floor, still stunned through, Blaine curls up, hiding his face in his knees, and starts giggling.

Kurt whacks him lightly on the calf and whines, “This isn’t funny.”

_Is it too late to run away?_

“Don’t you dare,” Kurt threatens as Blaine uncurls himself.

Burt comes back in and Kurt tugs straight his rumpled shirt.

“How are you doing, Blaine?” Burt asks.

Blaine signs and Kurt translate, “He’s good.”

“And are you going to stay for dinner?”

At the question, Blaine checks the time, and then texts something for Kurt to read.

“Blaine says he should actually get going now. He’s expected home for dinner.”

Burt nods. Kurt escorts Blaine to the door. Around the edge of the entryway, they have a measure of privacy.

“Running away after all, I see,” Kurt snarks at him. Blaine just grins, leans forward, and presses a peck to Kurt’s lips. It’s hard for Kurt to imagine that his day started with all the worry over Blaine’s integrity towards him.

…

Father and son made it through dinner without the walk-in occasion coming up, and thought that they both had wisely and wordlessly agreed on selective amnesia. But as Kurt works on his homework at the dining room table after dinner, he’s not so lucky.

“Kurt, do we need to have a talk?” Burt asks his son, sitting purposefully down across the table from his son.

“Excuse me?” Kurt says, confused.

Burt clears his throat. “ _The_ talk,” he says. He takes off his hat and rubs at his forehead. “But I’m not sure I’d be any good at it.”

“I don’t need anything like that,” Kurt stutters out, wide-eyed and horrified. “ _That_ –,” (He can’t consider saying that word sex in front of his father) “Is not even on the horizon.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You were getting pretty comfortable with that boy today.” Kurt makes a chocking nose. Burt continues, “Don’t get me wrong, I like the kid well enough. But I know what it’s like to be young and hormonal. One second it’s all innocent and the next, well, it’s not.”

Kurt lowers his hands from his mouth. “I’m no where ready for…” he lowers his voice, “sex.”

Burt readjusts his hat. “Good. Because like any parent, I’m not ready for my kid to grow up so soon… but you’re coming up in the time in your life when you start more and more ready. And I know it’s as awkward as hell, but I want you to know you can come to me about anything, right? We spent so many years not talking about things… and just, you being okay is more important than either of us being embarrassed.”

“Okay, Dad,” Kurt squeaks.

Burt stands, and pats Kurt on the shoulder as he passes by.

Kurt’s tempted to immediately pull out his phone and text Blaine about this slightly mortifying, totally embarrassing, but ultimately touching sex talk thingie he had with his dad. He catches himself before he does it. Texting his boyfriend of only weeks about sex would be equally if not more mortifying than talking to his dad about it. 


	8. Chapter 8

                Ever since that first exploration, whenever Kurt and Blaine could contrive a private moments together, they descended in heated make-out sessions.  Vertical, horizontal, diagonal, Kurt-on-top, Blaine-on-top, side-by-side, all sorts of variation. Kurt can truly say he never realized having a tongue in his mouth would be so intoxicating.

                But it’s Blaine’s fingers that are the real pleasure, his primary means of communications. Blaine’s fingers in his hair, whether gently stroking or tugging. His fingertips or knuckles trailing the curves of Kurt’s face and down his neck. Blaine’s hands gripping his shoulders, his forearms, his waist, the fabric of Kurt’s clothes – the feel of someone clinging to Kurt with need. Blaine’s fingers inter-tangling with Kurt’s.

                You never felt so not alone when you were so one with another.

                Then came the day it happens. It’s surprising with their unchecked passion with each other that it hadn’t occurred before.

                They are in Kurt’s bedroom, an alarm clock set for five minutes before Burt would leave work in the afternoon, just to be safe. They are laying side-by-side, Blaine’s leg thrown over Kurt’s. Then Blaine rolls over, moving himself on top of Kurt. The pressure makes a part of Blaine’s anatomy apparent against Kurt’s hip. 

                Blaine’s hard. It’s not that Kurt isn’t on his way, but it’s too much, too soon. Kurt stiffens, and pulls back into the pillow under him.

                Blaine pulls up, a confused and curious expression on his face.

                Kurt presses at Blaine’s hips and the Blaine moves completely off of him, sitting at his side. His expression is enough of a question for Kurt to answer without any signs as prompting.

                “You’re…” Kurt’s not sure what words to use. Of their own violation, his eyes drop down to Blaine’s crouch, where the _shape_ is just visible through the fabric of his jeans, before pulling them back up quickly.

                The meaning is clear, and Blaine’s cheeks are a bit pink, though he doesn’t look that embarrassed overall.

                Blaine gets his phone off of Kurt’s bedside table and texts him: _I can’t help it when I’m with you. And I’ve felt you before._

Kurt sucks his lips between his teeth in immediate reaction at the second half of Blaine’s comment. He hadn’t realized.

                _I’m getting the idea that we need to discuss boundaries._

                Kurt rubs his hands on the tops of his legs anxiously. “Like what?”

                _Like where we put our hands and even how we feel about sex._

Sex? No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Kurt had already been forced into this conversation with his father. He isn’t ready to have it with his boyfriend. Kurt knows he isn’t ready to have sex, but it Blaine, so unabashed at being discovered hard, face calm as he texts about sex.

                A horrifying thought overcomes Kurt. What if Blaine is ready for sex? Like now. He’s overheard enough of girls around school gossiping about their boyfriends pressuring them for sex. But Blaine isn’t like that… Kurt’s mind is running a mile a minute.

                There is a light touch on his cheek, Blaine’s fingertips getting Kurt’s attention.  Their eyes catch, and Kurt can tell Blaine has so much he wants to say.

                The alarm goes off. Kurt reaches past Blaine to shut it off.

                “The alarm,” he repeats for Blaine to read his lips. “My dad will be home soon.” He gets off the bed and bothers to start to straighten his clothes and hair.

                Blaine’s fingers ring his wrist, again to gain his attention. He starts to sign something as soon as Kurt looks, but Kurt interrupts him.

                “Blaine, my dad will be home soon.”

…

                Mercedes runs up to him in the hall. “Did you hear?”

                “Hear what? About that one Cheerio’s bad dye job, cuz Cedes, that’s something that needs to be seen to be appropriated.”

                “Couch Sylvester was fired,” Mercedes says instead.

                Kurt slams his locker. “What?”

                “Turns out she was the one who leaked our set list. The choir directors of Jane Addams and Haverbrook owned up to it to Mr. Schue, to Figgins too.”

                “Oh my god.”

                Mercedes squeezed his arm. “You know what this means?”

                “Coach Sylvester’s winning streak is over?” Kurt guesses sarcastically.

                Mercedes shakes her head with a grin. “Your boo is officially cleared, and now I can finally meet him. I know that’s why you were holding out on me, even though you originally said after Sectionals.”

                “Oh,” Kurt says with a grin that secretly hiding gritted teeth. It’s not like he sort of been avoiding Blaine since he tried to talk about sex and Kurt ignored him. But…

                Oh, how manipulative of Kurt, yet so perfect. They couldn’t have that dreaded conversation if Mercedes was present, nor could then make out (and risk finding themselves in another heated situation). 

…

"So you're the boy who stole my boy," Mercedes says first time she meets Blaine.

Blaine raises his eyebrows then types something out on his phone. Both Mercedes and Kurt receive the text within a second of each other. (Kurt had prepped by giving the two each other's numbers.)

_He's in high demand._

 Kurt fights back a blush. He's gotten somewhat accustom to Blaine saying such nice things to him, but its different when someone else it witnessing it too.

 "Good answer," Mercedes tells Blaine, like it had all been a test. She nudges Kurt with an elbow.

  _And you must be the lovely Mercedes, stuff of legend._

 Mercedes gives Kurt a sideways glance. "I like him already."

 "Remember, I was the one who said all those nice things about you to him," Kurt teases.

 The hostess shows up and leads the three of them to a booth. Both Kurt and Mercedes sit across from Blaine. It's just better for lip reading.

 "So," Kurt says.

 Then, Mercedes says, "Well, Blaine, I have to apologize on behalf of New Directions for ever thinking you were a rotten spy and cheater."

 Blaine signs. Kurt interprets, "That's thanks." 

 Blaine’s working on his phone for a few moments, Mercedes and Kurt waiting and reviewing their messages. Blaine looks up when he is done. Mercedes phone buzzes, and she starts reading.

 “Wait, I didn’t get the text.”

 “That’s because it was just meant for me,” Mercedes says. Blaine smiling mischievously.

 “That’s not fair!” Kurt protests, glancing between Blaine and Mercedes. Mercedes clutches her phone to her chest to keep Kurt from peaking at the screen.

 Blaine texts Kurt, _I promise its only nice things_ , but Kurt doesn’t trust either Mercedes’ or Blaine’s grin. Blaine’s foot brushes purposely against Kurt’s under the table. Blaine’s toe eventually hooks around the back of Kurt’s ankle, linking them together. It probably the most intimate contact they’ve had since Kurt freaked over feeling Blaine’s erection. Kurt’s been finding reasons for them _not_ to be in private. Movie dates and hanging out when his Dad was home and now, dinner with Mercedes.

 Mercedes finishes whatever she was typing in response to Blaine. Blaine receives the message, reading it with a soft growing smile on his face. He looks both tender and a little fragile. Kurt offers his hand over the table. Blaine takes it.

 Mercedes looks on. “You two are too cute.”

 …

 The evening went swimmingly. Better than expected. If Mercedes words, “Tina is going to be so jealous that she was busy tonight” were to be trusted.

“Well, I think it better to introduce you all slowly. Don’t want to throw Blaine to the wolves all at once,” Kurt replies.

Mock offended, Mercedes says, “Wolves? We’re your friends.”

“I don’t see much distinction.”

They laugh. Kurt’s driving Mercedes home.

“Hey, can I ask you, seriously, what did Blaine say when he texted only you?” Kurt asks, suddenly nervous.

“Sure,” Mercedes says.

“That easy?”

“It wasn’t a secret.”

He takes a turn onto her street. “Well?”

“He asked me what your voice sounded like. He said you would be too embarrassed to give him an honest answer.”

Embarrassed is right. Kurt feels himself get a little blushed. “What did you say?” he asks quietly.

“The truth,” Mercedes answers.

“Mercedes!” Kurt implores as he pulls to a halt by her house.

She opens the car door and hops out of his Navigator. “See you at school.”

“Mercedes!” he calls after her, but it left with nothing by her cackles.

…

                _I know what you’re doing,_ reads Blaine’s text the next time they spend time together in Kurt’s living room, after a Saturday mall date with Tina. 

                “Excuse me,” Kurt says.

                Blaine reaches out grips tight Kurt’s fingers.

                _You’ve been avoiding being in private with me… Did I scare you when I mentioned sex?_

Kurt goes blush-y despite himself, biting hard his bottom lip, both signs of guilt.

                Blaine raises his eyebrows, like _I told you so._

                Kurt steels himself and then says carefully, “I’m not ready for sex.”

                Blaine types one-handed for a moment, not letting go of his hold on Kurt’s fingers – which is itself reassuring.

                _And that’s completely okay. I’m not ready either._

“You’re not?” Kurt questions.

                _This is why we needed to talk about it. We need to know where each other stands now that we are getting closer._

Kurt giggles lightly at the word _closer_. “I care for you. This is just all so new to me.”

                _This is new to me too. You’re my first boyfriend._

Kurt had referred to Blaine as his boyfriend in his head, and even out loud a few times, but it was never a label the two of them had discussed and agreed upon.

                “Boyfriend?” Kurt questions.

                Blaine just nods, all earnest in his facial expression.

                They kiss and it tastes like resolve and progress. It’s not new or daring or heated, but the perfect sealing  of a promise: _boyfriends._

                “Now that that’s resolved, can I ask you something completely different?”

                Blaine nods.

                “What did Mercedes tell you about my voice?”

                _She told you that?_

“About your question. Not the answer.”

                _She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already expect._

Kurt examines Blaine face, trying to decipher meaning from it. Blaine moves open hand in a circular motion in front of his face. Kurt remembers that gesture from an early date, the way his heart thudded when he looked up the meaning after. He had never called Blaine out on it, being shy back then and having forgotten until recently.

                “I know what that,” Kurt performs the gesture, “means, you know.”

                Blaine isn’t shaken. He ducks his head in a small nod, a ‘Well, then, good.’

…

                Kurt wakes in the middle of the night, feeling strange, electric, and a little sticky. As he blinks himself awake, he realizes – and remembers the pleasant dream he had been having. A wet dream. Starring none other than Blaine Anderson and his firm hands and sure lips.

                Just over two weeks ago Kurt was freaking out over the thought that Blaine wanted to have sex with him and now Blaine is popping up in Kurt’s sex dreams… life is weird, and a little wonderful.

                Kurt hides an awkward giggle in his pillow although there is no one around to hear it. He will get himself out of bed to clean up in a minute or two, but for now he’s going to think about Blaine a little more. Maybe try to siphon back some details from his quickly fading dream.

                Kurt’s knows his readiness for sex hasn’t changed in the last few days past. That’s still a way off. Yet, the possibility lingers, and the want. He’s not ready to open himself up to that vulnerability and that intimacy. Yet, one day, maybe, with Blaine, he could imagine himself ready. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there is some weird formatting in this chapter with paragraph indents, but I am sure it's still readable. Anyway, I had a huge writer's block on this chapter, but I finally broke through. Hope this is acceptable. Fair warning, this story is nearing its end. I kind of already used most of my ideas for it and I don't want it to get stale.


	9. Epilogue

Blaine has taken to being Kurt's sign language tutor when they are hanging out in private.

Blaine performs a sign. Kurt repeats the gesture back. Blaine shakes his head and performs it again. Kurt makes another attempt. Blaine shakes his head again.

"Wait, I don't get what I'm doing wrong?" Kurt says.

Blaine scoots closer to him, until they're hip-to-hip on the edge of Kurt's bed. Blaine curls his hands around Kurt's, shaping his hands with his, moving his hands through the gesture like manipulating a puppet.

"I know what you're doing," Kurt whispers, although they are not at the correct angel for Blaine to read his lips. Blaine must feel Kurt's breathe on his temple, for he leans back, his eyes gleaming.

Hands still twisted together, they move in for a kiss. This is how most of their tutoring sessions ended up. Why ever make oneself untangle when they could tangle in closer.

…

Time passes. The school year passes. Slowly, Kurt's friends meet Blaine. Blaine and Kurt turn into the steady, dependable couple that other McKinley students, in their tumultuous relationships turning in and out, together and apart, come to for advice. It's an odd experience for Kurt, because, honestly, he's just figuring it out like anyone else.

With excitement and trepidation, New Directions heads off to Sectionals and then fails abysmally.

…

"So we get off the stage, and then Quinn goes into labor. So we all rush off to the hospital, except for Rachel who we leave as our representative in case we can't get back in time for judging. Then basically, we're all freaking out in the waiting room like it's our baby being born…"

Blaine's laughing at him.

"What?"

Blaine lifts his hand into a shape that even if Kurt was completely unstudied in sign language would understand. Blaine's hand was held up, palm forward, his middle and forefinger pressed down, his other three fingers extended. Together they represented three letters: I, L, U.

Blaine was signing,  _I love you_.

Kurt swallowed hard. Oh. Wow. How was he supposed to process this, except for that he beliefs it, unequivocally. He believes that Blaine loves him. And he loves Blaine too.

Kurt smiles, and he lifts a hand to match Blaine's. Blaine's adoring-eyed look becomes more adoring-eyed.

Blaine lowers his 'I love you' hand and places his upward on the tabletop. Kurt presses his free hand into Blaine's.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by 5X01 when Haverbrook was reintroduced into canon. There uniforms were blazers, and I thought, what if Blaine had been a Haverbrook student? Then Klaine would have met in season 1... And this happened. 
> 
> I might continue this if inspiration strikes/there's reader interest.


End file.
